


London Bridge Hasn't Fallen Yet, I Think

by orphan_account



Category: Alice by Heart - Sheik/Sater/Sater & Nelson
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Friends, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:07:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25934878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The Spencer family next door is probably the worst thing to ever happen to Alfred. Or, at least, that's what he would have told you in 1929.
Relationships: Alfred Hallam/Alice Spencer
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	London Bridge Hasn't Fallen Yet, I Think

**Author's Note:**

> whoop scoop series time

Nearing the cusp of the nineteen-thirties, a three-year-old Alfred watches impatiently as his mother swoons over their neighbor’s new wailing child. It’s not that he’s got a thing about babies, they’re whatever, but it’s not like the Spencer’s are ever lacking some crying newborn ever. His mom can just steal one and go if she wants one so badly. They probably won’t notice.

“He’s just being a little boy,” the neighbor says, and Alfred latches onto the fact that they’re talking about _him_. And being three, at his patience’s end, and an only child, he’s not having it. He doesn’t feel like being patronized.

Although if you ask him, he probably would just say he’s hungry and wants to _leave, now, can’t we just go home, Mum?_

“I’m not _that_ little,” Alfred says, because it’s the first thing that comes to mind to say. But judging by the snickers of the two women - _which he can barely hear over the caterwauling of that monster in his mum’s arms_ \- it wasn’t a very good comeback. So he keeps going. “He’s much smaller than I am.”

The neighbor smiles. “It’s a _she_ , Alfie.”

_Oh_ , the only thing little Alfred hates more than being patronized is being corrected. And the only thing he hates more than that is being called _Alfie_.

He’s making a face, and he knows because his mother looks like she’s about to lose it laughing. Which is how she always looks when he gets angry and it shows. And he just thinks that’s stupid.

“Can we just go home, please?” he asks, because now he just feels like being little again when his mother would do anything for him and all their neighbors were just old people about to die. Stupid Spencers, ruining good things.

“Why don’t you just come meet Alice, and then we’ll go make lunch?”

His mother holds the baby just a touch away from her torso, expectant that Alfred won’t turn down the compromise. _Meet the monster, get lunch. Meet the monster, get lunch. Meet the monster, get lunch_. Alfred says it over and over again in his head as he takes cautious step by cautious step to where Mrs. Spencer and his mother are standing. _And Alice. What a stupid name_.

_The bright side_ , Alfred thinks as he gets closer, _is that she’s finally quieted down._

When he finally gets there after his tortuous journey from the other side of the lawn, his mother kneels down next to him. Alfred looks to her first, hoping to convey that he wishes she would just hold _him_ now, because he is quite a selfish child, but she just smiles at him and nods down to the baby. So he looks down.

Alice is incredibly pale, with the biggest eyes he’s ever seen on another child. “She looks weird,” he notes, and his mother scolds him. He frowns. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“Maybe when she gets a little older, you can play with her. She’ll be just like a little toy for a little while.”

Alfred doesn’t like the Spencer kids, even the boy that’s only a month younger than he is. Nevertheless he finds himself saying, “Maybe,” noncommittal and distant.

He can see where Alice is already growing some hair - it’s dark brown, and thick, and he’s never really seen that on a baby. Granted, Alfred hasn’t seen many babies in general. But Alice is an overall okay one, looks-wise. 

Figuring he’s done is time, he looks back to his mom, who’s just grinning at him like she’s lost her head. “Can we go eat now?” Alfred asks.

His mum sighs. “Yes, Alfie, we’ll go eat now.” She stands straight, handing Alice back to her own mother. “Sorry, Julia. He’s just a little grumpy.”

“I am not-” Alfred starts, his voice raising.

“Alfred Hallam, don’t you dare.”

He quiets.

Mrs. Spencer is just smiling. “It’s alright. I know how it is.”

And then Alfred’s mom is guiding him away with his tiny hand in her own, taking them across the neighbor’s lawn and back into their own property. And even though he tries really hard to only think about lunch - _and he really does want lunch_ \- he can’t help but glance behind them to get one last glimpse of Julia and the now-sleeping Alice. He ignores the weird urge after the one look, and simply reinforces the thought of meat, peas, and potatoes. 

_Stupid, stupid Spencer baby._

**Author's Note:**

> alfred's mom: there's only one thing worse than a rapist
> 
> alfred's mom: rips paper away to reveal "child rapist"
> 
> alfred: a child
> 
> alfred's mom: no-


End file.
